


The Choice

by LadyValkyrie



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Difficult Decisions, Injury, M/M, Near Death, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Rough Sex, description of Rape, thomas pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-22 13:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13764753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyValkyrie/pseuds/LadyValkyrie
Summary: James and Thomas set out to build themselves a new life after leaving Savannah, however events do not go as they planned.In which our heroes must make difficult choices and confront the ghosts of their pasts.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in two minds about sharing this work - I wanted to try my hand writing something in the first person, and also something darker than my usual preferred 'everyone lives happily ever after' type fics. However, it's ended up darker than I originally anticipated. This won't be for everyone, and new tags will be added as we go along.

James and I had made good time as we headed north from Savannah. We’d made a decent amount of money by working odd jobs in the towns we passed through, particularly those that didn’t have large populations of slaves or where our literacy was valued.

 

We hadn’t really settled on our final destination - I just wanted to get away from the heat and humidity, and James, I think, simply wanted to be as far from the West Indies as possible. I revelled in the freedom that I now had - being able to make decisions for myself again, eat and drink whenever I wished, and come and go from our various lodgings. I even enjoyed the nights we slept rough, covered by only our blankets while James pointed out the stars that he navigated by at sea.

 

‘Thomas, you’re positively glowing’ James said, as he curled up next to me one morning, ‘I think our nomadic lifestyle is doing wonders to restore your health.’

 

I kissed the top of his head. ‘I haven’t felt so alive for years, my dearest James. However though, eventually we will need to find somewhere to settle. We can’t keep traipsing about the countryside forever.’

 

‘Hmmm. Well we could make our way to —; that is a busy port city, and it would be nice to be near the ocean again - plus it’s far enough north that you’d be away from the humid summers you dislike.’

 

‘Yes, and if I never see a sugar plantation again it will be too soon,’ I said. And for the first time in many, many years, I allowed myself the pleasure imagining a wonderful future for James and I together, where we could live the loving life, free of shame and judgement that was denied us in London.

 

**

James had been ill a couple of weeks previously; I suspected a tropical illness, he’d told me that he was occasionally struck down by terrible fevers which would incapacitate him for a few days, then it would pass. For very severe attacks, he took a tea made of an expensive bark which was usually enough to cure him.

 

My truest love had been weakened by his latest bout of fever, and despite insisting that he was well enough to travel to —, it was obvious that he was still not in top form. We were walking along the road, our belonging strapped to our backs, enjoying the fine weather, when we were set upon. It was a band of robbers who quite literally came out of nowhere to hold us up with pistols. I cursed my own idiocy for walking into this trap; my mind had wandered again to my future life with James, and I hadn’t been paying attention to our surroundings. James, while usually very alert as a result of his many years at sea, was tired and still recovering from his sickness. The men pointed their pistols at us, screaming at us, and stripped our weapons and money. They went through our packs, took the food, but, mercifully left our books - I assumed that they couldn’t read.

 

James of course, could not let this stand. He hadn’t been the most feared pirate captain in the Caribbean for nothing - he managed to fell one of the men with a blow to the nose, breaking it, while the man’s pistol fired harmlessly off to the side, James then managed to take this man’s sword to run another through; however at this point their leader had realised that James was a threat so promptly shot him in the side, then called his remaining man away. I tried to stop them, to at least recover our weapons, but of course I was no match for them, and the leader smacked me across the the face, punched me in the chest and I collapsed to the ground, winded. It would appear that I wasn’t even worth the effort to kill. James, a shocked look on his face, crumpled to the ground without a sound, a red stain rapidly spreading across his shirt.

 

Once I had managed to take a couple of deep breaths to restore my wits, I scrambled over to where James was lying on the ground, the blood spreading quickly beneath him. I took the scarf off my neck and tried to dress the wound as best I could, however I was terrified that I would lose James. He was so pale, breathing quickly and starting to tremble.

 

‘Come on, my love, come on - you can’t leave me here like this!’ I snapped at him, willing him to live. Once I was satisfied that my make-shift bandage would at least do something to stem the bleeding, I pulled James to his feet, and put his arm around my shoulder. ‘Alright James, I can see the city in the distance - it’s very close, we only have a couple of miles to go. You WILL keep going until I say so, do you understand?’

 

‘Yes Thomas, I will stay with you.’ He sounded weak, but I recognised some stubbornness remaining in his tone.

 

We struggled on for what felt like an eternity; however we did not seem to get any closer to the city. We were both exhausted - I couldn’t manage both what was left of our belonging, and take most of James’ weight at the same time. I was almost crying with exhaustion, when I felt my legs give out from under me, James fell on top of me, looking like death warmed up. I took the opportunity of this unanticipated break to check on his wound. It was still bleeding, and I felt the panic rise in my chest, for I was certain that James was going to die.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes try to recover from their robbery.

We probably waited by that roadside for a few minutes, however it felt like hours. I pressed the scarf to James’s side, murmuring nonsense about how we would start walking again soon, how we would find a doctor, James would be patched up and then we would settle down for a nice hot meal. It sounded pathetic to my ears, however James appeared to take some comfort, though of course I’m sure he knew deep down that we were in dire straights.

 

I heard something in the distance, and looked up to see a merchant’s cart making its way down the road. I quickly leapt to my feed to flag the cart down, and thank God the man stopped and listened to my hysterical ramblings. I explained what had transpired, and our saviour loaded us up, promising to take us to the town. The journey passed quickly from here, now that we didn’t need to walk, and I began to regain hope that James would survive.

 

The merchant dropped us in a small square in the poorer quarters of the city, down near the docks. James, by this point he had almost lost consciousness, and he collapsed at my feet as I pulled him off the cart. I tried to ask some of the passers by for directions to a doctor; however they ignored my pleas. We looked like a couple of vagrants, having been involved in the earlier scuffle, we were dirty, James was bleeding, and flopped on the ground like a drunk, and I was yelling like the mad man the world once thought me to be, on the brink of hysterical tears.

 

Finally, a young lady took pity on us. I rapidly explained what had happened, and she nodded.

 

‘Come with me, I know a doctor.’ She picked up what little remained of our belongings, and helped get James to his feet, once again with his arm around me and we made our way through the streets. It crossed my mind that she could be trying to steal what little we had left, however she took my elbow with her free hand and guided us along. 

 

We arrived at the Doctor’s rooms, and the lady open the door calling out. The Doctor, who looked to be a kindly, older man, came out from a back room, saying ‘Good afternoon Betsy, what I can I do for you today?’

 

‘Oh Doctor, these men were robbed just outside the city limits, and his one,’ here she indicated to James, ‘has been injured, shot, I think.’

 

‘Right, bring him onto the table.’ The Doctor started to prepare his instruments, while I helped James onto the table. The Doctor clicked his tongue when he saw the wound, and saw the full extent of the bleeding, and started to extract the bullet.

 

‘Come, we will wait out the front, you are better off leaving the Doctor work,’ the lady, Betsy was it?, said, pulling my arm. ‘You cannot help your friend any further.’ I looked over to the table, James had by this point mercifully lapsed into full unconsciousness. 

 

We sat on the step together, and a wave of fatigue hit me, and a sense of helplessness came across me like I had not experienced since I’d been taken to Bedlam. We were in a foreign city, knew no one, had no money - I had no idea about where we would sleep tonight or how we would pay the Doctor for his services. And James, oh dear James - if he died today, I don’t know how I would carry on.

 

’So what’s your name then?’ Betsy asked.

 

’Thomas. And my companion is James’ I said. ‘We were hoping to establish ourselves here, however, as you can tell, things haven’t gone quite to plan.’ I forced my voice to remain steady, when all I wanted to do is scream.

 

‘Do you have anywhere to stay Thomas? Any friends, or family?’

 

‘No, we were going to try to find an economical boarding house, then find employment.’

 

Betsy frowned, regarding me carefully. ‘So why would someone like you, Thomas, be seeking a cheap place to live? The way you carry yourself, the way you talk - you’re definitely not from around here, are you?’

 

I was spared the need to answer as the Doctor came to fetch us.

 

‘It was close, however I’ve managed to extract the bullet and stitch him up. However infection has already set in, and he is weak. I’m not sure if he will survive.’

 

I nodded, struck dumb. ‘Thank you Doctor - may I see him?’

 

‘Yes, he’s awake again, so you can move him to your lodgings now. And pray that he can shake the infection.’ The Doctor wasn’t looking overly confident.

 

I returned to the room, worrying now about how we were to extricate ourselves from the premises without paying. James was starting to sit up, but he was slow and hesitant, and I think, judging by the smell in the room, had taken rather a lot of rum to numb the pain when he regained consciousness.

 

‘James,’ I hissed to him, ‘what are we going to do? We don’t have any money to pay the Doctor, and we need to find somewhere to stay - we can’t be on the streets with you in this condition.’

 

’S’all right,’ he slurred, ‘I have some coins in my boots.’ James, bless him, pointed vaguely to where he had a couple of gold coins sewed into the tops of his boots. I quickly extracted one, paid the Doctor, and we left in much the same way we arrived - Betsy carrying our bags, me supporting James as we made our way back down towards the docks.

 

Betsy, again, was our angel - she advised that there was likely room at the boarding house where she rented her room, ‘provided of course you can pay - Mrs Mack won’t stand for charity.’

 

‘We can pay, at least until James is better.’ I said, with more confidence than I felt. I then worried about this Betsy - she had been very helpful, and she no doubt realised there was more to James and I than being simple travellers. I hope she didn’t think that my bearing indicated that we were wealthy or powerful and were worth robbing - but then again, it was late, it had been a long and stressful day, and I was almost past caring if she had an ulterior motive.

 

We arrived at a rather dingy boarding house, damp and in need of paint, with cracks in the brick wall. Betsy lead us inside, taking us through to the kitchen. A rather stern, older lady was sitting at the table, ordering a couple of younger girls about dinner preparations.

 

‘Mrs Mack, I have a couple of new tenants for you.’ Betsy waved in our direction, and pulled a chair out for James to collapse into.

 

This Mrs Mack looked down her nose at us like we were something the cat dragged in - which, in a way I suppose we were. James was pale and sweaty, and barely staying upright, his side was caked in dried blood. I wasn’t much better - dirty from travelling and the robbery, with James’ blood on me as well. 

 

She pursed her lips and said ‘You’ll need to share, I only have the one room available, but there’s two beds.’ She recited her terms for board and meals, and her rules for residents ‘I expect no trouble from my tenets, gentlemen, or you’ll be out on your ear, rent forfeited’, I nodded, accepting her conditions - we should have enough money for at least a week, then once I’d found work and James had recovered (I couldn’t even acknowledge the alternative to James not surviving), we could decide what course of action to pursue next.

 

Our new landlady took us up to the attic room. It was tiny, and dank, but it was a roof over our heads, and at least having two beds wouldn’t arose too much suspicion for our relationship. The roof slanted in on either side of the room, so that the only place I could stand to my full height was right in the centre of the room, in between the beds. I thanked Mrs Mack, and then Betsy who had brought water for us to wash, bless her. James fell onto one of the beds, groaning. Once the ladies had left us, I knelt by James, cupping his face in my hands, kissing him and I pressed our foreheads together.

 

‘It’s alright, James, my love, everything will be alright,’ I whispered to him.

 

‘Thank you Thomas. You saved me,’ James said weakly. I could see that he was tired, and I stroked his hair as he fell asleep.

 

I washed and prepared for bed - the stress of the day hit me like a wave, and I lay back to prepare to sleep. I looked across to where James was sleeping, breathing shallowly - and I began to cry, and bit my hand to stifle my sobs.


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas must make a difficult decision.

I fussed over James over the next couple of days, trying to keep his wound clean, and made sure that he managed to eat something. I asked Betsy where I might find work, of course very conscious James’ stash of coins would only see us through for a short time. She provided me with a few suggestions, but noted that there it was the height of the Atlantic crossing season, so ships arrived most days with new migrants to the Colony, all looking for work.

 

‘Many make the crossing hoping for a better future, however it doesn’t always happen.’ Betsy smiled sadly. I gave her a sideways glance, wondering what had brought her to this cheap place. Betsy was stunning - alabaster skin and red hair (she could have been a distant relative of James!), and beautiful classical features to match. 

 

I suspected that most of the residents of this house made their living on the streets, they were all ladies (with the exception of the gentleman that I thought to be Mrs Mack’s lover), as each night they all dressed up and headed out of the house, not returning til almost morning. They would then gather to wash (on one occasion, I found myself accidentally entering the courtyard where the water pump was located to find several girls in varying states of undress, much to my embarrassment), then all the house residents would sit down to Mrs Mack’s breakfast and they’d gossip about the night’s work. I quite liked them actually - they were funny, tough and quite unlike any other women I had ever met. James came and joined breakfast on the fourth day, finally well enough to venture downstairs. They regarded him with curiosity, but after he’d told a particularly bawdy joke about a judge, a pirate and a wooden peg leg, the ice was broken. I suspect, given the way I was wont to fuss over James at these gatherings, the ladies guessed the true nature of our relationship, but let us be.

 

My search for employment was less than successful. I was not fussy about what I did - nothing could be worse than being in Bedlam - so I went to all the businesses in the city to see if they were in need of a clerk, but at each place, I was met with rejection. I then sought physical labour, asking around at the docks, I even looked at farm labour, however with slaves and younger free men arriving by the shipload, competition for paid work was fierce. At the end of another fruitless day, I returned to our room, collapsed on my bed, frustrated. I tried to read, but couldn’t focus on the words. I was desperately worried at this point, only now having funds for another few days (and that was if James and I shared an evening meal rather than paying for two).

 

James sensed that I was worried, and said ‘Thomas, I will come with you tomorrow to look for work, maybe I can get work in the shipyard. I can teach you how to do the repairs that have to be conducted on shore.’

 

‘Oh James, you’re still injured, and you get exhausted coming up and down the stairs. You need to get better before you start worrying about work. I’m sure I’ll find something tomorrow.’ I smiled with a confidence I didn’t feel, and James knew that we were in trouble, but didn’t say anything further. We slept in the same bed that night, it was stupidly narrow and uncomfortable, but I wanted James near me.

 

I woke during the night to James tossing and turning, burning hot with fever. His tropical illness had returned with a vengeance. I mopped his brow throughout the night, but to no avail. He was delirious with fever by morning, and I thought, again, that he would die.

 

I asked Betsy to watch over him when she returned from her night’s work, and I made my way to the Doctor who had first treated James when we arrived. He understood the symptoms I described, asked if James had been living in the tropics. When I confirmed that he had spent a number of years in the Caribbean, he nodded, and sold me the bark that James had previously used.

 

It cost me what was left of our money.

 

I returned to the boarding house, and made up the bark-tea for James. As I took the tea upstairs, I passed Mrs Mack, who of course, being the shrewd businesswoman she was, reminded me that our next week’s rent was due in two days. I smiled and said ‘Of course', silently panicking inside as I had no way to pay it. I entered our attic room, Betsy had stripped James’ torso and had a number of damp cloths on him in an effort to keep his temperature down. James was lucid enough to drink the tea, and he did seem to settle and sleep calmly once he had finished the drink.

 

She went to leave, and I followed her down the stairs.

 

‘Betsy, thank you for looking after him while I was out. But I must seek your assistance once more.’

 

‘Oh?’ She looked surprised, ‘yes, of course Thomas, what can I do for you?’

 

‘Can we speak privately?’ I was embarrassed enough at the request I was going to make of her, I couldn’t be having this conversation in the stairs. Intrigued, she nodded and led me to her room.

 

We sat down on her bed, and I took a deep breath and took the plunge.

 

‘As of this morning, James and I have no money. We can’t leave here, not in the condition that he is in. I’ve tried, and tried, to get employment, but I haven’t been able to find anything. So what I want to ask of you is… if I were to work on the street, like you and the other girls do… are the customers who would come to a man? I mean, do you think a man would pay me if I were to take him in my mouth?’ I blushed a furious red, humiliated at having to even contemplate this course of action.

 

Betsy was quiet for a moment; I think taken aback at my question, but then she said ‘You’re very handsome, Thomas, and posh. There’s certainly men who would be that way inclined.’ She frowned, thinking, ‘And also I know of only a couple of other males who work in our area, so you won’t have too much competition.’

 

‘Right, thank you,’ I said stiffly, still uncomfortable with the whole situation, ’so, err, how do I go about it?’

 

And that, dear Reader, is how, I, Lord Thomas Hamilton, the disinherited eldest son of the late Earl of Ashbourne, husband to Miranda Barlow, lover of Lieutenant James McGraw, former resident of Royal Bethlam Hospital, and late of Oglethorpe’s Savannah Plantation, found myself learning how to be a prostitute.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas commences his new employment.

The evening came, and I dressed carefully, preparing for my first night’s work. James’s condition had improved a little since taking the tea, however he was still very, very sick. He tried to sit up, but I made him lie back down.

 

‘I might have a lead for some employment tonight James - apparently they may require men to clean and check stock for spoilage at the warehouses overnight, so we don’t get in the way of the stevedores unloading the ships during the day. Nothing glamorous, my love, but it will pay our way until we’re ready to move.’ I smiled in an effort to hide my angst, sure that James would see through my lie.

 

James smiled, ‘That’s wonderful, Thomas. I shall wait up for your return. Rub your feet after your night’s labours.'

 

‘No you won’t, you’ll sleep and concentrate on getting better!’ I kissed James one last time, and headed out to meet Betsy.

 

We walked together to the main road, Betsy pointing out the blocks which were serviced by other men, and therefore where I should keep clear to avoid any confrontations over territory. 

 

‘Now, Thomas, you’ve remembered everything we discussed today - you know what to charge for what service? And how to check for pox?’

 

I nodded dumbly, stomach churning at the thought of what I was about to embark on.

 

‘And one final thing - what will you call yourself?’ Betsy asked as we approached the main road where she and the other ladies plied their trade.

 

‘What do you mean? Thomas I suppose, since that’s my name.’

 

‘No, it’s important to separate yourself from your work. I call myself Kate when I’m on the street.’ 

 

I frowned, then smiled. ‘Right, I see. In that case, I will be Alfred.’ I could think of no finer tribute to my evil father than have his name associated with this trade.

 

We parted on the main street, and I headed off to my part of the block, turning round to take a final look at Betsy, who gave me an encouraging wave. I found a place, and waited, trying to look relaxed, however I was conscious about how ridiculous I must appear - a fallen Lord, on the wrong side of 40 years, trying to pick up men for money. After about half an hour or so, a man came up to me, and stood next to me a few feet away. 

 

This was it.

 

‘Good evening. Are you looking for some company tonight?’ I said, politely, unsure now if this man was indeed a potential customer, or just some poor innocent out for a stroll in the wrong part of town.

 

The man seemed hesitate at the sound of my well educated accent. ‘Might be’ he said quietly in return, ‘what you offering then?’

 

As per Betsy’s instructions, I rattled off my terms and prices, the man nodding in agreement.

 

‘Agreed. But I’ll pay you the extra to swallow.’

 

‘Very well. Come this way.’ I said with more confidence than I felt, and led him to a side alley that I had already explored.

 

In the end, it wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. The man didn’t take long, I swallowed as instructed and he paid me the agreed amount. He left, and I returned to my place on the block.

 

On my first night, I serviced three customers all up. I now had enough money to see James and I through for another few days.

 

I met Betsy and the other girls in the early morning, and we made our way back to the house. After the ladies had all finished with their washing, I stripped down myself and cleaned myself in the frigid water. I wanted no hint of what I had done to be apparent to James. Once I was clean, I returned to our room. James woke when I entered, and reached his hand out to me. I took it, and sat on the bed beside him.

 

‘How did it go? Did you find work?’ James asked, but his voice was very weak.

 

‘Oh, fine, fine. Nothing to write home about, but I have some money now to see us through. I think I’ll be able to keep at it until you’re back on your feet and we can go elsewhere. But now, my love, I’ll go and fetch you some breakfast, then I must have some sleep.’

 

**

And that’s how life continued for us for the next few weeks. James was still beset by his illness, however at least his wound eventually healed. He was also more mobile, and could make it downstairs occasionally for meals. 

 

I would go out most evenings with the ladies, take my customers to my little alley to suck them off. I managed to earn enough to keep James and I in the boarding house, plus buy more medicine when James required it. His fever would pass, and I was hopefully of his eventual recovery for a few days, however it would then return with a vengeance and he would be laid up again, delirious for days.

 

I’d started to save some of my coins each night with the aim of being able to leave when James was fully recovered. I maintained the fiction working in the warehouses overnight, which James never questioned. I would return very late (or early depending on which way one considered it), wash, breakfast with James, then sleep til early afternoon. When James was feeling well enough, we would go walking together when I woke in the afternoon, to help him regain his strength. On the days he was unable to rise, I would read to him.

 

I was a terrible person, withholding the truth from him, however I couldn’t tell him. I found that I was able to separate myself from the men I serviced, keep Thomas apart from Alfred - this was a skill I developed in Bedlam. Once I was able to compartmentalise what my body was experiencing from my soul, I could withstand just about anything. It was how I maintained my sanity in that dreadful place.

 

For the most part, my work on the streets was uneventful. One customer wanted to pay me to suck my cock, which was surprising, however I imagined it was James, and I was able to finish, and he tipped me extra. Another man punched me in the side of the head as soon as he came, leaving me dazed, and ran off without paying, while another short changed me. But, these incidents were certainly in the minority, and I continued to earn reasonable money. I had had previous lovers tell me that I was skilled in this area, and it would appear that the men of this city agreed.

 

Indeed, after a month or so, I had even managed to gain a couple of regular clients. One in particular, a Lord K—, recently arrived from England, was especially enamoured with me. He had asked me if I would spend a night with him, and allow him to have full sex with me. I hesitated, then he quoted the price he was willing to pay - it was enough to keep James and I in comfort for a full six months. It would mean that I wouldn’t need to work on the streets any more, and with James on the mend we could be on our way again to start over very soon.

 

I asked Betsy her advice as we went home for the morning. 

 

‘For that price Thomas, it’s hard to say no. And I suspect what he’s asking is nothing that you and James haven’t done before?’ she cocked an eyebrow, and smiling. ‘Besides, you have to feel a bit sorry for poor Lord K— he’s married to a woman much younger, and I suspect he isn’t remotely attracted to women.'

 

‘Well, indeed. At any rate, I have another night to decide. He’s going to send a coach the night after next to pick me up - I just need to be on the corner by 10 o’clock.’ I sighed, rubbing my forehead, I felt a headache coming on. ‘It is so tempting. The thought of having financial independence again, it’s been a long time since I’ve known that. But I’m not sure I can betray James in that way - it’s one thing to suck their cocks, quite another to let them take me entirely.’

 

Betsy took my arm, and said ‘You need to do what is right for you - whether that’s doing this job and taking the money - or if you don’t feel comfortable, then don’t do it.’

 

I spent the next day and night mulling over the choice I had to make. I even decided that I wouldn’t go out to work the night before I was due to meet Lord K—, rather I spent the evening playing chess with James in the kitchen, then we made our way to bed. We made love that night for the first time since James had been shot. I was worried that James would know about me, but he didn’t seem to think anything was off. At one point, he gestured for me to take him in my mouth, but I just couldn’t face it, so instead I finished him in my hand. As he fell asleep in my arms, my choice was made - I would accept Lord K—’s offer, since I meant that I would be able to spend more nights with James and stop working on the streets.

 

So, the next evening, I prepared myself myself, dressed in my best clothes and brushed my hair. I was ready.

 


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas experiences a terrible event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - This is where things get dark - chapter describes rape and panic attacks.

Sure enough, at 10 o’clock on the dot, a carriage pulled up, and Lord K— opened the door from inside, and called out ‘So you decided to join me then Alfred?’

 

I nodded and climbed into the coach, giving Betsy a quick wave as she watched from across the street. 

 

The carriage raced towards the nicer part of the city. I think the last time I was in a carriage this fine was when I was taken from my father’s house to Bedlam. I shuddered at the memory. This reaction did not go unnoticed by Lord K—, who asked, ‘not having second thoughts are we Alfred?’

 

‘No, not all my Lord.’ I smiled wanly. For God’s sake, pull yourself together Thomas! The last thing I needed now was one of the shaking attacks I occasionally suffered as a result of my stay in the mad house.

 

We arrived at the house, it was devoid of Lord K—’s family and servants. He led me up to the bedroom, where he poured me some wine.

 

‘Thank you,’ I said as I took the glass.

 

Lord K— raised his glass ‘Cheers’. I toasted in return and took a long drink. I was nervous; and the feeling that I was betraying James was making me feel ill. I drained the glass. Lord K— smiled, and gestured to the bed, ‘Please get undressed Alfred.’

 

I obeyed, and pulled my jacket and vest off, then my trousers. Lord K— regarded me with undisguised lust.

 

‘Very nice, dear Alfred. Now the shirt.’ 

 

I complied, but as I sat on the bed to removed my stockings a wave of dizziness passed over me, and my vision went blurry. I tried to speak, to tell Lord K— that something was wrong, but my mouth wouldn’t form the words properly. He didn’t seem surprised by my current state, rather he smiled and got up and began to walk towards the bed where I was now collapsed on my back, unable to move. The last thing I remembered was Lord K— bending over me saying ‘oh Alfred we are going to have fun with you tonight.’ I then passed out.

 

**

I woke to find myself tied up, face down, spread eagled on the bed. There was a man, not Lord K— penetrating me, hard, while Lord K— watched on. There was another man off to the side, also watching. As I came to my senses and realised what was going on, I began to buck and tried to throw the man off me.

 

‘This was not what we agreed,’ I snarled at Lord K—, ‘get this man off me.’ 

 

‘Alfred, you are being paid a large sum of money to please me. And it pleases me to watch my friends have you.’

 

‘No, stop it now.’ Once again, I started to struggle. At this effort to free myself, the man pulled out, and Lord K— picked up a riding crop which was near the bed an proceeded to whip me on my back and buttocks, and then for good measure, sliced the crop along the side of my face. I felt my cheek split and blood run down my face.

 

The whipping took me back to Bedlam, the first time I had fought against the doctors after being imprisoned. I was in my cell again, cowering from the orderlies as they belted me, I could feel the cold stone as I shrunk into the corner of the cell, trying to stay small. Back in the bedroom, I went quite still and catatonic, and didn’t react when the man entered me again, and finished in a few more thrusts.

 

Once he was done, I was freed from the bed - I saw outside that it was almost morning. I can only assume that the other man present had taken me as well, for I was very sore, however I don’t remember anything of that. I forced myself to move, and dressed, shaking, and avoiding eye contact with the other men. Lord K—, pulled out a heavy purse and threw it at me, I fumbled and dropped it, then bent to pick it up - it was more than the agreed sum.

 

‘Go out the back, the coach will be waiting to take you back. Thank you for an enjoyable evening, dear boy.’ Lord K— smirked, and his companions laughed. 

 

I left, stomach churning, and managed to get out of the house, and into the alley before I threw up. Sure enough, the coach was ready, and once I’d finished emptying my stomach, I climbed in and was returned to my street.

 

I got out and started to walk back towards the boarding house, limping due to the injuries inflicted on me. I entered the courtyard to wash, and I couldn’t strip off my clothes quickly enough as I got under the pump to wash the blood from my face, and from between my backside and legs. I began to shake uncontrollably as I scrubbed at my skin. Betsy came into the courtyard, relief evident on her face.

 

‘Oh Thomas, thank goodness you’re back. I was getting worried when you hadn’t returned by the time we finished for the night.’ I turned to face her, stark naked, and she gasped when she saw my injuries, and her hands flew to her mouth.

 

‘God, what happened?’ Betsy looked frighted, seeing the welts on my back, and noticed the blood running down between my legs. ‘Thomas…?’

 

‘It wasn’t what I expected or agreed to. There were other men there, and I was drugged. However, at least he did pay me,’ here I gestured to the large purse by my clothes. ‘I need you to help me clean up - James cannot know. I haven’t told me what work I’ve been doing, he’ll be devastated if he knew.’

 

Betsy, once again proving that she was made of tough stuff, took all of this in her stride and raced inside to fetch me dry clothes and a towel. She also returned with some cloth which she carefully folded - ‘for the bleeding’ she explained, pressing it into my hands.

 

Once I was slightly more presentable, I came in to find James sitting down with the others in the kitchen finishing off breakfast. He started when he saw my face, but I waved him off, saying that I slipped at the warehouse and gashed my cheek up against a shelf. The other ladies, knowing the truth of my employment, had the good sense to remain quiet but shared worried looks. I don’t know how I managed to eat and behave normally. At one point as I went to spoon porridge into my mouth I felt my hand tremble, but I forced it to be still, and once I’d finished eating I kept both hands clasped in my lap to hide the shaking. Betsy kept glancing at me, but I shook my head slightly at her, and she kept her mouth shut.

 

We went back up to the room, and I prepared to sleep - after being unconscious for most of the night, I wasn’t really tired, however I couldn’t face James. He was looking well, the strongest he’d been in weeks, and announced that he was going to go out and ask about work at the shipyard. I nodded vaguely, and once I was alone, I stashed my earnings in my hiding place and lay in bed. As I had done when confronted with the awful times at Bedlam, and then later at the plantation, I formed the events of this night into a small box, and pushed it away deep inside myself. I couldn’t stop shaking, and lay trying to calm myself down - eventually I snuck down to the lounge room to liberate a bottle of rum from Mrs Mack’s liquor cabinet, leaving a coin in it’s place. I drank until I passed out.

 

James woke me several hours later, concerned at my drunken state. I mumbled something at him about feeling sore from my warehouse mishap, and agreeing that I had probably overindulged. James looked worried; however, I smiled and pretended everything was fine.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James learns of Thomas's secret.

The next few days passed in relative peace. My moments of shaking eventually subsided, and while James suspected something was wrong with me, I was able to fob off his concerns.

 

James had a few promising leads for work with the shipyard, but nothing had eventuated as yet. I told him that I wasn’t going to go back to work til my face had healed, and when he looked concerned about money, I told him that I had a little saved. The summer was well and truly on us by now, so we went for long walks in the park and enjoyed our afternoons in the sun.

 

We returned to the boarding house that evening, and retired to our room to read, as had become our habit. I readied myself for bed, ensuring that I did not show my back to James and wearing my long night shirt to hide the welts on my backside. I kissed James goodnight, and went to my bed. A short time later, James squeezed in beside me and kissed the back of my neck, putting his arm around me. I took his hand and settled against him, preparing for sleep. But James wasn’t interested in sleep, his hands running down my chest and to my thighs, and I froze as James ran his hand up my buttocks and to my cleft - and paused when he found the cloth that I had there as precaution against further bleeding. I didn’t know what to say, I stopped breathing and my muscles tensed while I heard James say ‘Thomas, what’s this for?’

 

I couldn’t speak, my chest was tight, and I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. My carefully arranged box of memories was coming apart. I started to shake, and the tears spilled onto my cheeks.

 

‘Take off your nightshirt, Thomas.’ He paused. 'You haven’t let me see you naked for days, what has happened?’ 

 

I shook my head.

 

‘Please Thomas, what are you hiding?'

 

Still unable to speak, I finally managed to force my limbs to function and I climbed over James and got out of bed. I moved to the centre of the room where I could stand upright, and pulled my shirt over my head. James stood beside me, examining the injuries on my back.

 

‘What happened to you Thomas?’ he said softly, oh so softly, it broke my heart. His face was full of pain; a small muscle near his eye was twitching.

 

My mouth gaped, unable to form coherent words. I couldn’t look at James when I finally began to speak. The shaking was getting worse, I thought I was going to have a full panic attack as I had suffered when I was in Bedlam. I clutched my arms across my chest as I tried to calm myself.

 

I couldn’t look James in the eye. ‘I lied to you about the work I’ve been doing. I haven’t been able to find any proper paying jobs - at a warehouse or otherwise - since we arrived. And when you were sick, and needed the bark for your special tea, it cost the rest of the money you’d hidden in your boots. Mrs Mack would have kicked us out. So I’ve been working on the streets, men pay me to suck their cocks.’ I risked a look at him, his face was completely emotionless.

 

‘How did you get injured like this?’ James asked flatly.

 

‘One of my regular customers paid me to spend the night with him, to have sex with him. I agreed, because the sum he offered was enough to keep for months. However when I went with him, he’d tricked me. He drugged me, then I think he and a couple of his friends raped me, which is why I’ve been bleeding. When I regained consciousness, I struggled and he whipped me. When it was all done, he paid me and sent me home. But I now have enough money though to see us leave this place and settle somewhere new.’

 

At the end of this speech, I sat back on my bed, James on his, and we faced each other. We sat this way in silence for several minutes - I had said my piece, it was now to James to decide how we went forward from here.

 

‘Tell me who did this to you.’ The look on his face was terrible.

 

‘It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done - the most important point now is we have enough money to continue on our way. We needn’t stay here any longer.'

 

James swallowed, I could see that he was trying to control his emotions. ‘Enough money? You had other men - in that way - how could you do that? You shouldn’t have defiled yourself - oh God, you’ve ruined yourself, and for what?’

 

I was angry at this comment, and snapped, ‘For what?!?’ My shaking was getting worse, though as a result of the aftermath of my rape or anger at James I could not tell. ‘Fuck James, I thought you were going to die, first from your gunshot wound, then from your fevers. We had no money, you needed your medicine and we would have been thrown out on the street if I hadn’t have done this. And I ‘ruined’ myself, as you so delicately put it, long before we came to this place.’

 

‘What do you mean?’ he whispered.

 

I raised an eyebrow at him, the anger rising in my chest. My carefully constructed boxes of awful memories were starting to fall apart, tumbling around in my mind. ‘For Christ’s sake, James, don’t be naive. How do you think I managed to survive in Bedlam? I sucked off an orderly once to get an extra blanket for my cell and a hot meal during a particularly bitter winter; I let a doctor fuck me - which was ironic, given he was tasked with curing me of my unnatural urges - so I didn’t have to undergo medical treatments for a couple of weeks. When things became truly unbearable, I did what I had to do in order to survive.’

 

‘My love, I had no idea.’ James, sat, stunned, and looked like he was about to weep.

 

‘What did you expect? That it was all salons and parties? Don’t forget James, it was you, you and Miranda, that left me there to rot. You were able to get away and start again. I kept hoping that you would find a way to rescue me, I nurtured that hope for months, that my brave and dashing Lieutenant, and my clever, beautiful wife would find a way to free me. BUT YOU NEVER CAME!’ I shouted, I could feel my face twisting into an ugly, angry mask.

 

There. I had said it. 

 

I had kept that that tiny, bitter, thought inside me for over a decade, and for so many years, I had pushed to the very back of my mind, the thought that I had almost forgotten, and now, it all came flowing to the surface. I knew, logically, that there was no practical way for them to have freed me - my father would have seen to that - however, the fact remained that I’d been hurt that they hadn’t even tried to see me, or get word to me after I was taken.

 

James seemed to break in front of me, and began to openly cry.

 

‘Thomas, I am so sorry. When I returned from the Admiralty that day, Miranda said you were gone, that we couldn’t get you back. Peter sent us packing that night. I’m so ashamed, I’ve been ashamed for years that I didn’t try to rescue you.’ James stood to reach across to take my hand, but I snatched it away.

 

‘Don’t you dare lecture me about debasing myself, James, or criticise me for the choices I’ve made to keep us safe, to keep a roof over our heads while you’ve been sick. Don’t you dare.' And with that, I pulled on my nightshirt again, got into bed, and rolled over, so I didn’t have to look at James. I curled into a small ball as I had done in Bedlam, when it all became too much for me to deal with. I heard James slip out of the room at some point, and he didn’t return before I eventually fell asleep.


	7. VII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas is confronted with the rage of Captain Flint.

James didn’t return in the morning, or the next day. I remained angry at him for a time, and I was actually glad he was gone, if I were completely honest - however by the second day I started to worry. I asked around the ladies but no one had seen him. I then took to walking the streets looking for him, convinced that something terrible had happened and I would find him dead in the gutter somewhere.

 

The fourth morning since our argument, I was sitting in the kitchen having tea with Betsy. She’d been out working the night before and was tired, yawning openly. 

 

‘So has there been any sign of James?’ she asked.

 

‘No, nothing - no one has seen him, I’ve looked in all the places we would go, I’ve tried where he was going to look for work. But there’s nothing. He must really hate me.’ I rubbed my face, trying to think if there was anywhere else I should check.

 

Betsy started suddenly, eyes wide. ‘Oh God, Thomas, I’ve just thought of something. The morning after you and James fought, a couple of us were saying how surprised we were that a gentleman like Lord K— would behave in such a manner. James came into the room, just as one of the others mentioned Lord K—, I mean we stopped talking as soon as James entered, we didn’t want him knowing we’d been gossiping,’ here Betsy had the good grace to blush that she’d been caught discussing my attack ‘but he must have overheard. You don’t think he would try anything do you?’

 

I knew then exactly where James was. Of course he would do something to avenge my honour. ‘Yes, I’m afraid I think he would. We have to stop him from doing something stupid. And dangerous.’

 

Betsy, still looking shocked, said ‘And today is market day - the servants will probably be out of the house, and if James has been watching the property he might try something while they’re away.’

 

‘Christ, you’re right. Come on, let’s go.’

 

We raced out of the house and made our way to the street where Lord K—’s house was. We entered through the back alley so as not to arouse suspicion, and sure enough, found the back door unlocked, and no servants present. We crept through the quiet house like a couple of burglars, my heart was pounding in my chest. We went upstairs and started to check the bedrooms. I heard Betsy cry out when she entered the main bedroom.

 

I quickly went to join her. And stopped dead.

 

We were too late. Lord K— was very dead, lying on his bed. He was covered in injuries, his face had been beaten to a pulp, and he was almost unrecognisable. I heard Betsy whimper beside me; however, the worst part was the huge amount of blood soaking into the mattress from between his legs. He’d been castrated.

 

Betsy was pale, and once she’d gotten over the shock, she left the room quickly, and I followed.

 

‘We can’t be found here Thomas, it will bring suspicion on us. We must go - now.’

 

I nodded dumbly, unable to speak. We went back downstairs and went to leave the way we entered, however on the way back, I could see into the parlour, something we missed coming in. In the room, there were two bodies lying on the floor - a women, well-dressed and somewhat younger than Lord K—’s age, and a young boy, about seven years old. I could only presume that this was his wife and child. They both had gunshot wounds to their heads.

 

‘Oh, God, James. What have you done?’ I moaned. Betsy grabbed my arm, hissing at me to get a move on. We raced out of the back alley, I pulled my hat low over my face to obscure my features, and Betsy had pulled a shawl over her head to mask her distinctive red hair, lest we be seen and associated with the atrocity inside.

 

We didn’t speak the entire return journey to the boarding house. Once we were back, I collapsed into a chair and held my head in my hands. I knew that James had a temper, however I hadn’t appreciated that his rage would see him capable of such atrocities.

 

‘I’ll need to leave here, if I stay, and they come looking for James or I, it will make life difficult for you all.’ I would actually be a little sad to leave - I liked the ladies here who had become my friends.

 

Betsy nodded, ‘I’ll be sorry to see you go Thomas.’

 

‘Thank you Betsy. I will not forget the support and kindness you have shown me.’ I smiled at her sadly, and squeezed her hand.

 

I found Mrs Mack, paid her the remaining rent for the week due to my short notice departure, and started to pack James’ and my belongings. I took a portion of my money, and snuck into Betsy’s room and left it under her pillow. I knew she would be too proud to take it if I offered it to her directly, however I had to repay the kindness she had shown me. And hopefully it would be enough to see her leave this place, leave the streets and start again.

 

I deliberated if it were worth leaving a note for James should he return, but I thought the chance was slim. I decided I would continue north (which had been our original plan before the robbery), and I would hopefully catch him up.

 

I was interrupted in these thoughts by the kitchen girl, who came barging in unannounced. ‘Note for you Thomas, a young lad has just brung it.’

 

I thanked her, and looked at the note. It was from James of course, I would recognise his hand anywhere.

 

_TH, my truest love,_

_Do you remember the afternoon we found our own small piece of paradise? I will be waiting for you there._

_All my love, JM_

Oh yes, of course I remembered. It had been a week or so past, before my attack and on one of the days James was feeling well. I had not worked the previous evening, so that next morning I was able to rise early with James and we had walked well out of the city limits. We’d found a beautiful meadow with a small, abandoned cottage, it was very run down, but we had joked about how nice it would be to restore it, and we could live in peace and quiet, and without shame.

 

I gathered the last of my belongings, hugged Betsy goodbye, farewelled the rest of the residents of our home these past weeks, and started the next phase of my journey.


	8. VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas and James must confront the ghosts of their past, and Thomas must make his choice.

It took me a couple of hours to make my way to where I believed James to be, and dusk was falling by the time I arrived. The cottage was just a beautiful as I remembered from the idyllic afternoon when we’d first visited. The meadow was peaceful and quite, and the cottage itself was small and cozy, at least it would be with some repairs. I walked through the trees, and was about to walk up to the door, when I heard a noise from somewhere off to my left. I spun round, reaching for the dagger that I had purchased before leaving the city, to see it was James, lowering a musket.

 

‘Oh thank goodness, you got my note. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’ve been keeping a lookout for any unwanted company.’ James said.

 

He was still my love, my James, yet I saw him in a different light now. He had told me of his Captain Flint persona, of those he had killed and how his rage had consumed him, especially after Miranda’s death. I suppose while I had listened to him, I hadn’t really comprehended what he was capable of; I had only considered the crimes he'd committed in a sort of detached, academic way, as something which occurred in the distant past with no relevance to the man I loved. 

 

I paused on the doorstep, unsure of what, if anything, I should say.

 

‘Come inside, Thomas, we can talk about what to do next.’ James held his hand out, beckoning me inside.

 

I pushed past him, not acknowledging that he had spoken. I saw that he had made up a bed, and the cottage was stocked with some food and drink. I understood, then, what he had been doing in the days since he’d left the boarding house - planning his attack, observing the house to understand the occupants’ routines, and readying our refuge here.

 

I reached for my pack and pulled out a bottle of rum, and took several large swigs. I offered it in silence to James, who followed suit. I sat down, trying to order my thoughts and feelings. A couple of times James tried to speak, however I silenced him with a raised hand - I think he took my silence as anger from our argument. As darkness fell, I became increasingly inebriated, and finally, I was ready to confront him.

 

‘Why'd you have to kill his wife and child, James?’ I slurred.

 

James froze, starting at me, his eye ticking ‘How did you-?’

 

I cut him off. ‘I went to Lord K—'s house this morning - Betsy told me that you’d overheard her and some of the other girls discussing my attack after we fought - she knew that you knew who hurt me.’ I pointed drunkenly at him, trying and failing to keep my finger steady. 'She knew the servants would be out of the house this morning, we worked out what you had planned. But you must have also arranged for that boy to deliver the note to me quickly - because he turned up not long after we returned the boarding house.’ The words were tumbling out of me, confused and incoherent, and I shook my head, ‘But I ask you again James, why did you have to kill his wife and child? I understand why you went after him, God, I wanted to do that myself after what he did to me. But why his family? They had nothing to do with it.’

 

James remained as still as a statue, sitting opposite me. ‘He hurt you Thomas. I wanted him to suffer, I wanted him to suffer for the hurt he caused you, I wanted him to suffer for the humiliation he inflicted on you. I wanted to make it right. I wanted him to see me hurt those he loved.’ He said it so calmly, like it was the most logical response in the world.

 

‘And you think killing innocents will help me? You’re a monster James,’ I snarled at him, truly angry and hurt that he would think that I would want a woman and child killed in my name.

 

We remained silent for a moment, taking turns to drink from the bottle of rum. I’d laced it with some laudanum I’d bought from the doctor before leaving town. I’d regularly been dosed with laudanum at Bedlam, and had actually enjoyed the way it had calmed me. Given recent events, I felt I would benefit from the oblivion to come. So we sat together, getting increasingly drunk and high.

 

‘It felt good.’ James said, his voice flat.

 

‘What?’

 

‘It felt good. Being able to watch him, watch his reaction as I dispatched his wife and child. I enjoyed beating him, I enjoyed it when I cut his balls off. It felt like I was making up for all those men who you serviced, those men who attacked you. I was no longer some helpless invalid on the bed, a kept man, while you were out pleasuring others.’ He spat these last words out, his face twisted and horrible.

 

I pulled another bottle from my pack, and drank some more while I considered what James had said.

 

‘Are you jealous that I was with other men?’

 

‘I hate the thought of others having you in that way. I hate the thought of your mouth on them. I hate that you wouldn’t do it for me the last time we made love.’ He looked away from me, embarrassed.

 

'Is that what you want, dear James?’ I moved to kneel before him, and fumbled, clumsy, at his trousers. ‘Shall I show you how I sucked them off, how I fingered them?’

 

‘Stop it, Thomas!’ James snapped, trying to slap my hands away, but I persisted until I’d freed his cock, but then he stood, shoving me. I sprawled on my side, laughing. I looked up at him, and could see him breathing heavily; torn, I think, about what he wanted.

 

I stood, and pulled him close to me and kissed him roughly, and I started to stroke his cock, which was still out of his trousers. He hardened rapidly, and he kissed me back, just as hard, our teeth jarring and lips bitten. I pulled at his clothes, and he at mine, he tried to get in position to take me, however I would have none of it. I pushed him back, and spun him round roughly to bend him over the small table in the cottage. I spat in my palm and started to finger him, preparing his entrance, and I held the back of his neck to keep him still. He groaned, and whimpered slightly, and I think then the reality of how rough I was penetrated the thick fog in my head. 

 

I paused, but he said, quickly, ‘Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop.’ So with that command, I started fucking him roughly and it felt so good, I thrust against him, and he moaned, and pressed back against me. I came quickly, deep inside him. James was still hard, and went to stroke himself, but once again I took control and went down on my knees in front of him. I took him in my mouth, just as I did with my men on the street, and sucked and stroked, and James ran his fingers through my hair, pulling and cried out as he came.

 

We drew apart afterwards, I finished off the rest of the rum, and collapsed into the pallet that James had made up on the floor as our bed, and promptly fell asleep.

 

I woke, hours later, my head pounding. James went to reach for me, to pull me into his arms. ‘Thomas, I love you.' 

 

I lay my head against his shoulder. ‘I’m not sure your love is enough to forgive this.’ 

 

‘Everything I’ve done since you were taken from me, I’ve done for you. You had no idea what it was like for me, for Miranda. I waged a war in your name!’

 

‘And how many were slaughtered because of that war, James? I never asked for that, I never wanted a war. I never wanted you to kill that boy, James, regardless of what his father had done. All I wanted was to be reunited with you and Miranda - but that didn’t happen, did it?’ I grimaced bitterly. James sat up suddenly, untangling our limbs.

 

‘I’M SORRY! I HATE MYSELF FOR LEAVING YOU, THOMAS!’ James screamed. ‘I’M SORRY I WAS ANGRY AT YOU FOR WORKING THE STREETS!’ 

 

He held is head in his hands, and moaned 'What can I do to make it right between us?’

 

I shook my head; I didn’t know if things could ever be right again.

 

We lay back in silence after this outburst. I knew that I would need to decide come morning what I was going to do - with the murder of a prominent citizen, the authorities would surely expand their search, and I couldn’t be positive that we were safe here. 

 

So herein lay my choice - when we had to leave, would it be with James? 

 

Can I live with someone who slaughtered innocents in my name? 

 

Could I stand being parted from the man I loved most in this world?

 

Was it even possible for us to move past the blame I harboured for my long imprisonment?

 

This was my choice.

 

And, dear Reader, so help me God, I had no idea what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, dear Readers, I will leave it to you to decide Thomas's choice. Thanks for following along this dark journey!


End file.
